and should fortune place within his reach a
suitable piece of wire, or even a nail of the right sort, he felt that
he could make good his escape from this cell.

"But should I succeed in this," he very prudently reasoned, "would I be
any better off? That heavy trap door is undoubtedly fastened down, and,
so far as I know, that is the only means of exit; but---- What is that?"
he suddenly said to himself, as he felt the cold shivers creep over him.

The sound continues. It seems like rasping or grating. Louder and more
distinct it grows, as Herbert's imagination becomes more active.

Every sound to one in his situation, in that dark, lonesome cellar,
could easily be interpreted to mean many forms of danger to him. But at
length he reasons, from the irregular rasping, and from other slight
evidences, that this noise is the gnawing of hungry rats.

What a frightful and alarming discovery this is to him! It strikes
terror to his brave young heart, and makes cold beads of perspiration
stand out upon his brow. And as these silent drops--the evidence of
suffering--trickle down his face one by one, chilly and dispiriting, he
grows sick to the very core.

Alone in a dark, damp cellar, with no means of defense--not even a
stick, a knife, or any sort of implement to protect himself from the
hordes of rats that now surround him.

This indeed is a night of terror to our young hero. He does not dare to
throw himself upon the bench, lest he should sleep, and, sleeping, be
attacked by these dreadful rats.

Accordingly, he commenced walking back and forth in his cell, as a caged
tiger walks hour after hour from one end to the other of his narrow
confines.

"This will keep me awake," said he to himself, with an attempt to rouse
his spirits; "and it will also keep the rats away."

After he had paced thus for a time, he heard steps above him, and
instantly he called out for aid. He called again and again, but the
inhuman ear of old Gunwagner was deaf to his imploring cries.

The sound of footsteps was soon lost, and all was still save the gnawing
of the rats. Herbert listened quietly for a time, to study their
movements. Soon he heard them scampering about in all parts of the
cellar. From the noise they made he judged them to be very large;
and they were certainly bold, for now they were running about in
contemptuous disregard of young Randolph's presence. Occasionally he
would yell at them, and kick vigorously upon the framewor